


Day 7: Long Road to Love Leads Back to You

by myownspark



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Declarations Of Love, Dirty Talk, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Kissing, Love, M/M, Married Couple, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8030524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownspark/pseuds/myownspark
Summary: “Missed you,” Louis murmured.Harry smiled against his mouth. “It’s only been a few minutes, babe.”“No, I meant …” Louis sighed with relief and didn’t finish, chose to keep kissing instead. He’d been afraid it would be one of those distant, frosty kind of nights where they would bicker and pick and brush past each other, Harry mad at Louis for some reason Louis couldn’t name. Those were nights where Louis could see that edge of disappointment in Harry’s eyes, nights where it seemed their love got lost somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, among the dirty dishes and lost toys and their two very young kids. But it felt like they might be righted now, back on track because of their funny conversation in the bathroom, and if Harry wanted Louis to be naked on his lap, then that’s what Louis would to do. (Harry is feeling cranky and lonely after a long week. Louis' offhand comment about a co-worker's maternity leave starts a conversation that gets Harry out of his head and into his heart.)





	Day 7: Long Road to Love Leads Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> Love and thanks to my beta @gettingaphdinlarry. There is no more fun in this world than poring over writing with you in the middle of the night, searching for the perfect words to tell the story. Let's always do this. xo
> 
> And thank you to @hevab for your patient, eagle-eyed britpicking, and your help with the finer points of maternity cravings in the UK. You are lovely, thank you, thank you for your help. xo
> 
> The beautiful artworks are by [twopoppies](http://twopoppies.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much for participating in this with me, I so appreciate it. (We do tend to make each other cry, don't we? In a good way.) xo
> 
> Songs that inspired me while writing: "Talking Body" by Mike Schiavo, "U" by Mikky Ekko.

Louis leaned in for a kiss. He moved his hips again, melting warm and round against Harry, who held his backside with both hands. His palms skimmed over Harry’s chest, lovingly caressing the broad, familiar muscles there. So strong, so solid. Louis felt strangely delicate up here, light, rocking smoothly back and forth, letting the strength in Harry’s arms move him as he wished, his own rigid cock standing up away from their bodies.

“Look at you …” Harry moaned. He shook his head, as if Louis were so beautiful he was hard to look at, and it made Louis at once embarrassed and bold.

An idea occurred to him then, as he watched Harry’s adoring, hungry eyes search over his torso and his belly, his shoulders heaving forward with the movement of guiding Louis’ hips. He wasn’t sure how far to go, where to take this, but he wanted to show Harry he was committed, game for whatever he wanted, that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

◊ ◊ ◊

“You’ll put in for a Christmas break, yeah? So we can spend a few at Mum’s?” Harry called out. He was stood at the foot of their bed beside the laundry basket filled with clothes still warm from the dryer. Another exciting Friday night at the Tomlinson-Styles’, he thought, complete with overcooked pasta primavera, some _Peppa Pig_ and two loads of washing. At least they’d all been able to eat together and the kids had gotten to bed more or less on time, two minor miracles in one evening that, after a long week, Harry was grateful for.

Louis poked his head around the bathroom door. “Hmm?” He was freshly showered and clad only in a towel; a few strands of wet hair hung over his forehead and a toothbrush stuck out of his mouth.

Harry faced him as he spoke, folding one of George’s white tee shirts, now streaked a stripy green. He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “I said, you’ll need to put in for time off at Christmas. So we can all go to my mum’s.”

“It’s not even Halloween yet, babe.” Louis nodded his chin drowsily toward the shirt. “Did one of the Teletubbies puke on that or something?” He turned back into the bathroom, not waiting for Harry’s answer.

Harry thought back to his spectacularly ill-timed wee break this morning, during which somehow more havoc had been wreaked in the kitchen by one dog than had been by all four of Isabelle’s friends at her cupcake-decorating birthday party months ago. He walked to the bathroom so he wouldn’t have to shout. “Nah, Zuko got into Georgie’s fingerpaint.” Harry rolled his eyes as he leaned against the bathroom door jamb. “Washable my arse. Anyway, don’t you have to put in for time off, like, ninety days ahead? Just want to be sure you get it this time.”

Louis shrugged, then nodded and turned back to the mirror. “Right. I’ll request the week.” He finished brushing and leaned over to spit, running the tap and collecting water in his hand. “Speaking of …” he swished and spat, “Jenny starts her maternity leave next week, and she’ll be out ’til sometime after New Year’s. We’ll be down one.”

Harry inhaled sharply and tried to keep his voice even. “Well, that’s not our problem, is it? They can’t deny it again. It’s someone else’s turn this time.” Last year it had all come down to Harry, all the gifts, the wrappings and decorations and letters to Santa, and they had agreed it wouldn’t be like that again.

Louis reached out, his face calm but showing concern. “Babe. It’s okay. I’ve got more seniority now. I’ll get it.” He wrested the now wrinkled shirt from Harry’s hands.

“Can you just put in for it? Soon. So we know for sure.” Harry’s hands went to his hips, and he felt his forehead crease. He could hear his peevish tone, and even as the words came out he wanted to take them back. He detested this negotiation, this jumping through hoops just to make sure his family would wake up together on Christmas Eve. It might be the laundry, or the messy kitchen and soggy pasta talking, but it was always this way, wasn’t it, Harry always being the one who had to ask for Louis’ time, the one who had to remind and bitch and nag. It wasn’t at all how he had pictured his place in their marriage, not at all who he wanted to be.

“Absolutely, petal. I’ll send an e-mail tomorrow.” There was a glint of something waking up in Louis’ eyes as he took a step to close the space between them. His voice turned whispery. “And don’t worry, babe. If they deny it, I’ll just tell them I’m pregnant and they’ll have to give me maternity leave, too.” Louis’ lips pursed up into a bow and he kissed Harry on his frowning mouth, reaching up a hand to stroke him lightly on the jaw.

Harry felt stupid moping, but the conversation had made him sulky. He was tired, they both were; he should have known that a Friday night was not the best time to bring up this sort of thing. Still, he didn’t want to brush this away with jokes or flirty banter. He wanted Louis to do something bold, take a stand, make a commitment or something. He knew Louis’ job was just that – his job – and he didn’t always have control over how much he worked. Down deep he knew it wasn’t Louis’ fault.

But it kind of _was,_ wasn’t it?

Maybe Louis could sense Harry’s irritation, because his fingers trailed along Harry’s jaw and grasped his chin, giving it a gentle shake.  “What do you think?” Louis hummed, tilting his head to invite Harry to catch his eye.

Harry felt the tightness in his chest loosen a bit as Louis moved closer. He smelled like woodsy shampoo and spearmint, and the warm promise of clean skin. He reached out to slide a hand around the damp softness of Louis’ waist, and sighed a resigned sigh. “Pregnant, right. That sounds like a foolproof plan.”

“I know.” As Louis spoke, Harry watched the gears turn in his mind, his eyes dancing with humour. “I’ll just waltz in, show them my big belly and demand six months off.” Louis’ hands dropped down between them to pat the slight roundness of his tummy, and Harry followed his gaze down so their foreheads slanted together. Louis let it distend comically for a moment, pushing it out fat and full, and they chuckled. Harry placed his palm over it, dragging his thumb through the little bit of dark hair showing just above the towel.

“Nice,” Harry said as Louis pushed in closer, rubbing their stomachs together with Harry’s hand still pressed between. Harry half-registered a fleeting impulse to lift his own shirt so he could feel Louis’ belly against his own, just before Louis raised his hands to rest on Harry’s shoulders.

“It’s a good idea, innit?” Louis took Harry’s earlobe between his lips and bit gently, making Harry’s shoulder jump.

Louis’ belly had always been one of Harry’s favourite parts, and he spread his hand out, smoothing over its warm curve. Harry closed his eyes, the absurd image making him smile. “Sweetheart. Please. You’d make the world’s most pathetic pregnant person.”

Louis stepped back, and the hand that had seconds ago stroked his cheek smacked playfully at Harry’s chest. “I beg your pardon? I’ll have you know I’d be _excellent_ at being pregnant. Seriously.”

Harry gazed fondly at Louis’ indignant face. Of course he would. Louis made sure that he was good at everything he tried, from football to singing to managing their accounts to painting Izzy’s fingers and toes. But Harry couldn’t resist a little dig, just to see what he’d say. “Let’s see … aside from the lack of required, eh, plumbing? You’re scared of doctors, you’ve never taken a vitamin in your life … the slightest _twinge_ of pain sends you moaning and whinging to bed— only after work, of course …” Harry brushed past him to the sink and picked up his toothbrush.

Louis levelled his eyes, and his lips pouted. “Quite right.” He regarded Harry in the mirror. “But. I’d do it.”

Harry snorted as he put toothpaste on his brush. “ _Right_.”

“I would.” Louis looked down, swiping a flannel over the errant drips of water on the counter. He smiled. “I can see it, can’t you? Me, having a baby?”

“Pshhh.” No, Harry couldn’t see it. He watched himself brush his teeth. It was ridiculous, truly. Louis could be bleeding from his eyes and still insist on going to work; the thought of him in any situation that would require him to take days off in a row, let alone weeks, was laughable. Don’t get between Louis and his cases, or his partner track. A preposterous picture of Louis giving birth on the conference room table with his interns assisting and a client on hold made Harry giggle out loud.

“What?” Louis asked.

“A baby. You.”

Louis’ look was playful as he came closer. “Yes, me. It’d be brilliant. I’d come up with some way to surprise you with the news, you know? Like, I dunno, those cupcakes that are pink or blue?” He smiled.

“Nah.” Harry spit and pointed his toothbrush at Louis.  He meant it as a joke, but it came out heavier, more strident than he’d expected, and he felt his smirk take a cruel edge. “You’d send me a text.”

Louis let that one go, but Harry could see that it cut close, in the way Louis’ jaw shifted and his eyes flicked away. He thought Louis might turn and leave, but instead he doubled back and slid closer to Harry’s sink.

“I know,” Louis began, and hesitated; when he spoke his voice was light and teasing. “I could spell it out for you with Scrabble tiles.”

Harry looked at him in the mirror, quirking up his eyebrow. Louis was gazing at himself in profile, his belly bulged out again with both hands cradling it.

“I’d want salt and vinegar crisps, please, and butterscotch angel delights at all hours. And you’d get them for me wouldn’t you?” Louis patted his tummy and batted his eyelashes dramatically, and Harry snorted, almost spraying his rinse water all over the sink.

“Remember Gemma’s cravings? Oh good God.” Harry rinsed again and put away his toothbrush. “Midnight runs to the chip shop.”

“I think shortbreads and Toblerones too, for me.” Louis didn’t need much excuse for chocolate, and he rubbed his hands together, making Harry smile. He always did this; he was so good at dragging Harry out of his dark moods, no matter what it took, no matter how outrageous the lengths. Harry breathed deep.

“Then I’d start to show, right?” Louis turned to face Harry. “And you’d be … touching my belly all the time. Talking to her.”

“Her?” Harry’s heart flipped lightly, and suddenly he felt awkward, not knowing what to do with his hands.

“Yeah, her. You’d sing to her too.” Now Louis was sliding in closer, rounded stomach first. “Pretty lullabies, every night.”

There was a beat of nothing, only the sound of them breathing in the small room. Harry looked down at Louis’ hand, which was reaching out for his to pull it back and rest on his stomach. It was odd, Harry knew, but the warm softness seemed too intimate suddenly, private or something, and Harry felt embarrassed; a giggle slipped out.

“Pshhh,” he said again. It was all he could come up with, though his neck flushed and his eyes couldn’t tear away from the sight of their hands on Louis’ body.

Louis saw, and sucked on his bottom lip, thinking. “I’d … eat ginger sweets and crackers. And you’d … rub my back when it hurt, hmm?”

Harry nodded despite himself, with Louis tilting his smiling face closer, pulling them into a swaying dance with his arms around Harry’s hips.  

“There’s my smile,” Louis whispered.

They stood there, still, embracing, for a long minute. Harry pressed his cheek to Louis’ hair and closed his eyes. The frustration of the day was finally slipping away, replaced by their silly game and his best friend in his arms. Thoughts about schedules, messy children and being alone flew away. Harry was thinking about something altogether different. Louis had planted a picture in his brain that had taken hold and grew. He took a chance.

“I can see her, you know. She has your eyes and my hair.”

Louis stirred then, with a soft intake of breath.

“I’d bring you up Party Rings and milkshakes at night, how would that be?”

Louis let out a breathy huff of laughter, and planted a kiss on Harry’s shoulder.

“We’d lay in bed and you’d … balance your book on your belly. Reading to me out loud while you eat.” Harry nestled down into Louis’ neck, the image clear as day forming a tingling knot in his chest. What was insane a minute ago now seemed like a sweet dream that might be just around the next bend. Would Louis really do this for them? Louis, his driven, type-A Louis who was scared of doctors and couldn’t see past himself sometimes? Surely not, but the question hung there anyway, between them, with Harry trying to figure out why it made him feel stronger, powerful, and a little more loved.

He felt Louis' lips graze his ear. “I’d be fat and happy,” Louis crooned softly, “and you’d be over the moon.”

At those words Harry felt his blood rush simultaneously to rise in his cheeks and pool in his groin. He gasped a little as his hips stuttered forward all on their own. He turned his head to find Louis’ mouth, suddenly aching to connect there, to hold and taste. Louis’ hair was damp in his hands and his lips were soft and yielding.

Louis drew back a bit, his mouth curled up in a smirk. “Imagine. Me telling the front office to suck it.”

Harry’s whole world shook a little. Do something bold, take a stand, make a commitment or something. It made his hand search out Louis’ so they could link fingers. “You’d … you’d do that?”

Louis cocked his head, and froze on his inhale. “Babe?” he began, “Um … last I checked?” His face had that regretful, I’ve-got-news-and-you’re-not-going-to-like-it look. “It’s kind of … impossible?” He chuckled then, a supple half-laugh that was sharp enough to break Harry out of his dream.

Harry turned away, cheeks burning. “Oh I know … it’s stupid … yeah.” He had gotten carried away somehow, into a world where something else was possible for them, and now that the illusion was gone, he felt a little woozy on his feet. He hid it by grabbing for a towel and pretending to wipe his hands.

“Wait, wait …” Louis said. He reached out, found Harry’s hands tangled in the towel. “It’s not stupid, love, I …” In that moment Louis looked like a flower ready to be plucked, blush-faced and lips plumped from their kisses, with a pink dusting of colour across his chest. He was looking into Harry’s eyes, searching for something there. “I …” he began again, but shook his head, because really, what was there to say?

Take a stand. Do something. _Bold_.

Harry reached between them again and slid the back of his hand over Louis’ abdomen. His fingers trailed down between his skin and the towel, pulling Louis tight to him. Louis let out a little grunt and lost his balance, but was quickly steadied by Harry’s arm around his waist. They stood with their thighs pressing together, holding each other up.

“Well now,” Harry said into Louis’ cheek. “Shall we get to it then?” He caught Louis, nodding and a little breathless, in another kiss.

Their paces matched as Louis walked them to the door. He pressed his hand to Harry’s chest, pushing him backward. “So … give me a few minutes to get ready, and then we can … work on that, hmm?”

Harry didn’t expect the catch in his throat that made him swallow, or Louis’ pretty, coy look that left him dumbstruck, watching as the bathroom door closed between them with a soft click.

◊ ◊ ◊

When Louis emerged a few minutes later, he found Harry staring back at him from the edge of the bed. He was still fully clothed, leaning back on his hands, the bulge in his lap visible from the bathroom door. Louis felt a twinge of pride; even after years together, sometimes Harry’s arousal would rise before they’d even begun, and the sight was enough for Louis to feel the first tingle of his own cock waking up.

“What, are you cold?” Louis teased, gesturing at Harry’s clothes. But staying dressed wasn’t about that, he knew.

Harry smoothed his hands over his thighs. “Not for long. Back that arse up.”

“Hmm, bossy much?” Louis asked with a fond smile, but he certainly wasn’t about to argue. He loved the feel of Harry’s clothes against his bare skin, but he was going to make sure he got kissed first, so he nudged himself between Harry’s legs and bent down to graze their lips. He tasted mint, but groaned when underneath Harry still tasted just like that boy from uni with the pretty voice and stunning smile, whose lips would be chapped and raw sometimes from their snogging that lasted deep into the night. He opened up and licked deeper for more, so grateful that Harry was the same. He was older, his hair was longer and he was a little thicker through the middle, but still so very much the same.

“Missed you,” Louis murmured.

Harry smiled against his mouth. “It’s only been a few minutes, babe.”

“No, I meant …” Louis sighed with relief and didn’t finish, chose to keep kissing instead. He’d been afraid it would be one of those distant, frosty kind of nights where they would bicker and pick and brush past each other, Harry mad at Louis for some reason Louis couldn’t name. Those were nights where Louis could see that edge of disappointment in Harry’s eyes, nights where it seemed their love got lost somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, among the dirty dishes and lost toys and their two very young kids. But it felt like they might be righted now, back on track because of their funny conversation in the bathroom, and if Harry wanted Louis to be naked on his lap, then that’s what Louis would do.

Harry’s hands caged Louis’ hips, guiding him to turn around. After an appreciative rub over Harry’s bulge and one last taste of his tongue, Louis turned, placed his hands on Harry’s thighs and lowered himself onto his lap. They fit together like this, with Harry moving his legs apart just so and wrapping his arms around him loosely. Louis could push and pull, rise and fall, using Harry’s thighs as a solid base, grinding a slow circle over his crotch. Harry let out a long groan and rolled his hips up.

“You like that, don’t you,” Louis chuckled. It could never get old, how one brush of his backside against Harry could get him panting and make his eyes go glassy.

Harry’s forehead was pressed into Louis’ shoulder, and one hand reached down to curve around the inside of Louis’ thigh. His wrist bumped Louis’ cock, which had grown thick enough to stand. “Yeah, I do.”

“Aah,” Louis nosed into Harry’s hair. “That feels good.” It was a simple but delicious sort of dirty, the contrast of Harry’s jeans against the naked skin of his thighs and the pillowy softness of his shirt against Louis’ bare back. But there was something else. With Harry still dressed, Louis felt exposed and a little vulnerable; he was bare and unprotected for Harry’s pleasure, and Harry could do with him anything he liked. The thought made Louis moan as he turned his head for a kiss, feeling Harry’s hardness dull against the cleft of his arse as he moved.

Harry’s hand was on his stomach again, skimming softly from his hip across to his lower belly. Their conversation was still fresh in Louis’ mind; he remembered how Harry’s face had changed, his vague frustration gone when they joked about Louis’ baby. Their baby. It was strange, but it had worked; the spark had come back into Harry’s eyes and they could connect again. Before he realised fully what he was doing or what it meant, Louis let his stomach fill out again, making it rounder under Harry’s hand. Doing so made his back arch, which made his arse grind against Harry’s erection from a different angle. Yes.

“Does that feel good too?” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear. “When you touch my belly like that?”

“Ugh, yeah, it’s full and … soft.” Harry’s arm tightened around him, and Louis was surprised to feel a bite on his shoulder that went straight to his cock and made it throb. Well then. Louis’ hands were still on Harry’s thighs, using them for leverage, and he circled his hips again. It was fascinating, the way Harry was so turned on by this, and Louis was never one to shy away from pushing forward, especially where Harry was concerned, even if this was a little mad. Well. A lot mad. His mind scrambled for a place to go with it, and he gave it a shot.

“You gonna do that to me, baby? Make my belly big?”

A low “huh” was gruff in Louis’ ear, and then a few chuckles; Louis turned to look and Harry began to curl over himself, shuddering with giggles.

Oh well, Christ. “Wait, what?” Louis asked helplessly, a confused smile creeping up. Harry continued to giggle and took a breath, and when he looked at Louis they both erupted in laughter. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head, while Louis tried to speak.

“Shhh … shut up,” Louis began, and gave Harry a playful little shove. “This, is this uh, what …” Louis gasped to catch his breath. “What … kinky sounds like, right?”

Their laughter filled the space for a minute, along with the shift of fabric and the light slap of Harry’s hand on Louis’ thigh. He rubbed there, where the continued grinding motion caused Louis’ muscles to flex and loosen. Harry looked up at Louis, his eyes squinting quizzically. “Yeah, um … I guess it is.” He sighed and resumed the upward roll of his hips. His voice got serious. “I think I like it.”

Louis guided Harry’s other hand to his cock, and they stroked it together. “I think I like it too.” It was a rhythm they knew well, a back and forth of pressure and heat that made Harry grunt a little in between their kisses; the sound made Louis push harder against him, and soon it was his turn to groan when Harry smoothed his thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Stand up, babe,” Harry said.

Louis did and started to turn, but Harry stood as well and kept him in place, a hand on each hip. Louis arched his back again so his arse jutted out, and Harry pulled him back so the hard rise of his erection fit snug between his cheeks. Louis looked back to see Harry’s face. “Is that okay, baby? Is that the way you want me?” Harry closed his eyes and traced his hand down to squeeze Louis’ thigh again, bending his knees to give Louis a stronger grind.

Harry nuzzled into the side of Louis’ face, dragging his lips along his cheek. He licked Louis’ earlobe, then took it gently in his mouth, skimming his tongue along the skin. His hand was on Louis’ stomach again, stroking across his body, his palm pressing lightly. Usually Harry was more insistent than this, a little rougher, and Louis angled into his hand, aching for more; he only found gentle, lilting fingers that glanced over him, teasing.

“We’d keep it a secret for a while, yeah? Nobody would know but us.” Harry spoke right into Louis’ ear before sucking the lobe in again, and Louis shivered involuntarily at his words.

“Our secret,” Louis hummed, as he reached back between them and felt his way over Harry’s erection, which stretched the fabric of his jeans taut. Louis let his head drop back onto Harry’s shoulder.

Harry’s hands wandered up to Louis’ chest and traced, ever so lightly, over a hardening nipple. The delicate touch was driving Louis mad, made him push out again for more friction. But Harry was having none of it, and drew back, making Louis whimper a little. They separated just long enough for Harry to strip off his shirt; when they came back together Harry’s chest pressed against Louis’ shoulder blades and his hand slid down Louis’ thigh.

“But then,” Harry’s other hand rested on Louis’ hip, “you’d start to show?”

Louis could hear the smile in his voice, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or swoon. He turned to face Harry and grasped the waistband of his jeans. “You mean, my clothes would get tight?” Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to Louis’ forehead as Louis unbuttoned him. The zip of Harry’s fly made a decidedly erotic sound as Louis eased it down, and he pressed his hand inside to take Harry’s cock in his cupped fist. “Then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” Louis said matter-of-factly, looking into Harry’s half-lidded eyes in wonder, reading the arousal there, wanting to take it even further. But Harry crashed into him before he could form a sentence.

Their kiss was wide open and crushing, the force of it almost sending Louis off balance. Harry pulled him in around his waist, letting a hand slide down around the curve of his hip. Louis stroked Harry with one hand, cupping his balls with the other, searching for something to say that might get him properly reeling. There it was; his mind saw them together on the couch, the shape of them so sensually intimate that his own cock jumped at the idea.

“You’d lay your head down on my lap, wouldn’t you? All the time. You’d press your ear against me.” His cheeks tingled hot hearing it out loud.

Harry’s hips skipped forward and the sound that fell from his mouth turned into a word that made Louis smile. “Yes.”

Louis looked down to see that Harry’s dick had started to pearl wetness at the head. Harry’s hands were in his hair, gripping his neck, crawling down his back, and Louis didn’t want to be standing anymore. “Let me taste you baby,” he said, and guided Harry backward so he sat back on the bed with Louis kneeling between his legs.

“I … I would …” Harry began, but then stopped as Louis took him in his mouth, smooth, warm skin whose briny, slightly sour taste made Louis’ mouth water. He used his hand, too, just waiting, patient for Harry to say something. He would when he could. In the meantime he licked and stroked and dragged his lips up and down the shaft. He heard Harry take a breath. “I would take care of you, you know.”

Louis draped his arms around Harry’s waist then, and pulled him closer so he could swallow Harry deeper, because of course he would, it’s what he did, had done for the little family they’d built from the beginning. Even when they were back at school, he made sure Louis didn’t oversleep and miss class, and didn’t let him drop that stupid lecture series with that arrogant arsehole lecturer because he needed it to stay on track to graduate. Made him take aspirins with big glasses of water before bed so he wouldn’t be hungover. Just held him, when Louis was tired and stressed and scared about the future. Held, kissed, loved. Forgave.

He looked up and saw Harry’s eyes unfocus, like he was watching a scene unfold in his head. His hand came to stroke Louis’ jaw and swipe his thumb near his mouth, touching where his cock went in and out. “I’d make sure you had … ah … everything.” It pushed in, smooth and full, and pulled out, Louis letting Harry control it. “Everything you needed. No matter … what.”

Louis’ own dick thrust absently against the side of the bed; he loved being caged inside Harry’s still clothed legs, trapped, with Harry’s hand tucked at the nape of his neck. “I know baby, I know you would.” It was a fact. Louis trusted him to do what he said he would, every single time. Harry looked after them always, even when he was exhausted or overwhelmed or terminally bored. He was the one who knew which size clothes the kids wore, knew what best to say to Izzy when she thought there was something terrifying under her bed, and knew best how to get Georgie to eat his peas. Just how lost they would be without him hit Louis like a truck. He was suddenly overwhelmed with it, and though it was impossible to show that to Harry, he did try, slowing his movement to take him down completely and staying there, letting Harry fill him up, then sliding up and off to go all the way down again, until his nose itched and his vision hazed. “Love how you take care of us.”

Harry let his head hang back, and his legs spread a little. Louis pulled Harry’s jeans down a bit more so he could reach down and lick the underside and the very base of his cock, which made Harry’s knee jostle; he kept the shaft loosely in his hand as he took one ball in his mouth, sucking gently and letting it rest full on his tongue. An idea occurred that brought out a low hum that vibrated over Harry’s downy skin.

“You’re going to give me all your come, aren’t you?”

"Mmm." Harry gazed at him, his thighs tense. "Mmm hmm.” He licked at the corner of his mouth, then sucked his lip between his teeth. “You want it?”

Louis let himself chuckle, and gave Harry’s cock a few short strokes. “Yeah, you’re going to fill my arse up, baby?”

“Ugh, fuck yes. I’m going to give you all of it.” Louis took him down again. Harry rolled his head back and Louis saw his eyes fix on the ceiling, felt his hips go stiff. Uh oh. Louis loosened his grip and sure enough, Harry sighed “waitstopstopstop” and covered Louis’ hand with his. “Come here, babe, come up here,” Harry whispered. He pulled Louis up as he shifted to sit by the headboard, guiding Louis to sit facing him on his lap at arm’s length. Harry was looking at him differently, like Louis had something he wanted. A secret, or a hidden treasure to find. But he didn’t stop talking.

“You’d get stretch marks here, yeah?” Harry’s tone was pensive and new, and it made Louis turn his body and tilt his head. He followed Harry’s gaze down to his waist where Harry held him. When he looked up to see if he agreed, Louis found himself nodding, the unbidden thought pulling a quiet “yeah” from him that sounded relieved, as if Harry had just reminded him of something he always knew but had forgotten.

“And I’d kiss you there. Kiss every one of them.” And Harry did, curving down to brush his lips and tongue against the skin. The touch was so tender Louis had to bring his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from seeing it.

“Baby,” Louis gasped, turning his face away but unable to escape. Harry held him still, drawing lines with his tongue that he punctuated with kisses and a soft bite. “Ugh, baby, you’re …” he started again, as Harry’s tongue left wet trails that crisscrossed over his stomach, his lips feeling hot and hungry against his skin.

“What?” Harry looked up and grasped Louis’ cock, letting it push through his loosely fisted hand as they moved. His face was asking, daring Louis to say it.

“You’re making me … so …”

“Hmm?” His hand pumped gently with a subtle twisting squeeze at the top, making Louis’ breath come out in a hiss. Harry smiled. “Tell me.”

Louis smiled back, because this time it was Harry who was pushing them forward, but he shook his head. This was coming from somewhere new. Somewhere he’d never been. He couldn’t say it. He kissed Harry instead, closed his eyes to it, and released a moan into Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s thumb pressed against his nipple. “And these would get … bigger? You think?” Harry stared at them as if he were seeing them for the first time. A soft gust of breath cooled the dimpling skin. “Can I …”

His hand moved to find the slight swell of his breast, where the nipple stood out like a tiny brown pebble; Harry let his palm slide over it gingerly, cupping the muscle. Louis moved in closer so the tip of Harry’s tongue could lick over it, making circles before he took it in his mouth and sucked. Louis grasped Harry’s shoulders and hung on, letting his lips fall against Harry’s forehead. He was going to say something racy about nipples or milk but there was a new mood in the room, a different kind of softness he didn’t want to disturb. He stroked Harry's back and pulled him close.

Louis didn’t know where all of this came from, really, or how it got to this place, but his heart thumped crookedly watching Harry in the throes of it. Of course they’d thought about it, endless, frustrating conversations about surrogacy and egg donors and contracts filled with stipulations and protections in fine print. But Izzy and Georgie were perfect, beyond everything they wanted, so clearly meant for them, and those talks had just died away. Louis thought they were done with all that, but. The look in Harry’s eyes was very much alive.

Louis leaned in for a kiss. He moved his hips again, melting warm and round against Harry, who held his backside with both hands. His palms skimmed over Harry’s chest, lovingly caressing the broad, familiar muscles there. So strong, so solid. Louis felt strangely delicate up here, light, rocking smoothly back and forth, letting the strength in Harry’s arms move him as he wished, his own rigid cock standing up away from their bodies.

“Look at you …” Harry moaned. He shook his head, as if Louis were so beautiful he was hard to look at, and it made Louis at once embarrassed and bold.

An idea occurred to him then, as he watched Harry’s adoring, hungry eyes search over his torso and his belly, his shoulders heaving forward with the movement of guiding Louis’ hips. He wasn’t sure how far to go, where to take this, but he wanted to show Harry he was committed, game for whatever he wanted, that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

He bit his lip, letting their smooth, slow movements ease the way. It would be alright, he thought, if Harry wanted this, it was alright. He slipped his eyes from Harry’s down to where their hips met, and moved his hands over his cock. It was sensitive and a drop of moisture beaded at its head, but he willed himself not to stroke it, only to tuck it away, hide it underneath his hands to complete the illusion. His body took over then, and he arched his back and twisted at the waist, the warm thickness of Harry’s cock heavy against him. He rolled his head back with his eyes closed, lost in the way they flowed together. Some corner of Louis’ mind recognized that this didn’t feel like sex, didn’t feel like making love, or fucking; it felt like seduction, invitation, _mating_ , complete with a new, enticing ritual that his body somehow knew instinctively how to perform.

“No, no,” Harry’s voice brought him back, the tone low and chastising, and Louis snapped his eyes open. Harry looked worried, his eyebrows stern as his hands gripped Louis’ wrists.

“What, baby?” Louis looked down where Harry was staring, where their hands hid Louis’ cock.

“No, don’t …” Harry said with dismay, and slid his hands around so their fingers intertwined, and he pulled, unfolding Louis’ arms from where they were crossed, setting Louis’ cock free to spring up between them again. “I want to see you.” Harry’s hips rolled decisively, making Louis groan. “Every bit of you.” The groan deepened when Harry’s hand wrapped around him just under the head. He stroked in time with the upward rise of his hips, and ugh, what had started out so gingerly and slow was becoming more urgent with each breath; he didn’t want to wait anymore, and leaned over to the bedside cabinet for lube.

“Open me up, baby. Get me ready for you.”

Harry brought his hand between them, palm up, and let Louis pour the lube over his fingers. “Tell me … how you want me to touch you.”

“You know what I like.”

Harry’s face was flushed, curious, stunning. “Tell me anyway.”

Louis smiled. This would be fun. “Why don’t I show you?” Louis raised his hand and barely grazed Harry’s lower lip with his fingertip. “Like this.”

“So light?” Harry’s lips scarcely moved to form the words, but his eyes squinted with the question.

“Mm hmm, just like that.” Harry’s fingertips reached Louis’ rim, and Louis felt the soft pad of his longest finger tease at the ridge there, mirroring the movement Louis made at Harry’s mouth. Louis touched the full swell of Harry’s bottom lip, and felt the same at his entrance, gentle and slow. When Louis moved his fingers Harry did too, matching the speed and pressure; Louis guided them, using Harry’s mouth as their map.

“Get me nice and wet, baby.”

Harry’s fingers smoothed the slippery liquid in circles over the puckered skin, following the way Louis let his thumb drag softly over his lower lip. Harry’s tongue caught it as it passed, and he took it in his mouth. He suckled gently, and pressed his finger to the yielding ring of muscle. Louis entered the plush heat of Harry’s mouth as he felt Harry slide through, just enough, and they withdrew together, the first tentative steps of a winding, spiralling dance. Louis nodded and met Harry’s eyes. Harry was asking and Louis’ body was answering; Harry’s coaxing fingers were saying it, Harry’s jaw that dropped loosely was saying it, his own pelvis that rolled and widened and welcomed the next quiet push of Harry’s fingers was saying it. Relax. Open. Relax. Louis could do nothing but gasp and let his eyes close when Harry whispered, “Nice and wet. I’m going to make you so wet, babe.”

Louis had to kiss the mouth that said the words, and used his tongue, licking lightly and dipping past Harry's lips to show him what he wanted. Harry’s finger fluttered and pressed, every little while venturing tenderly inside, building up a tempo that got deeper with the sound of their moans, until Louis crumpled forward and let his head fall onto Harry’s shoulder.

“More now, baby.” Louis inhaled Harry’s scent and kissed the crook of his neck. Their gentle movements were no longer enough; Harry’s delicate touch was easing him open, making him curl his hips for more. “More now.”

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, yes,” Louis groaned, “Now.”

Harry circled once more before positioning his finger at Louis’ opening and holding still; Louis pushed against him slowly, letting him in and controlling the depth. They sighed together, and kissed, Louis holding him inside.

“Does that feel good, babe?”

It felt more than good, it felt _right_ , like what he’d been aching for ever since Harry had said those things about a baby who’d have his eyes, ever since Harry started to touch him reverently as if he were precious. “Yeah, I want you to fill me up, wide open for you, such … everything,” he heard himself natter on, gibberish that made perfect sense.

Harry's face furrowed with concentration. He gripped Louis at his hip to still him, then moved another finger next to the first. He circled his slippery fingers again, caressing Louis’ tender skin, and waited. “Hmm, yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, as Louis lowered himself onto them, deeper this time, almost to the palm. “We’re going to open you up, babe, ’cause you're going to take me.” Louis felt the pressure inside, the incomprehensible pleasure, so good it seemed to vibrate all the way up to his jaw, making it drop open helplessly. “Give you everything,” Harry said, and Louis brought his hands up to cup his face and stroke his cheek.

“Yeah, get them all the way inside me, baby, all the way in and out,” Louis urged. He pulled back so he could move more freely up and down on Harry’s fingers; he felt beautiful, adored, so full with Harry inside him, with Harry’s eyes all over him.

But those eyes were changing. All the humour, all the playful teasing was gone, replaced with a serious look that was somehow a question and an answer at the same time.

“Louis.” His tone made Louis slow his movements and take a breath.

“What, baby?”

“Everybody would know.” Harry’s eyebrows drew together over darkening eyes. “Everybody would know you were mine. That I did that to you.”

Harry’s words punched a low moan from Louis, and made his hips curl under and skip erratically in their rhythm. Oh fuck, oh fucking _God_ , his heart had to swoop and burn with it: he would be Harry’s completely and utterly, on the outside and on the inside too. Louis let his eyes carry it all, the desperation and the sudden rush. He bent his head down to touch their foreheads together and kiss and breathe Harry’s air, his hand snaking up the back of Harry’s neck to hold him there. Harry’s tongue in his mouth helped him to find his rhythm again and with every stroke that filled him came a mantra of _yours._

Soon it wasn’t enough. “Get on top of me,” Louis said breathlessly, already leaning off, his body desperate to offer itself up. Harry lifted him with one arm around his waist and laid him down crosswise on the bed. Louis reached for pillows; somewhere down deep he grasped the instinct to raise his hips high, and after Harry shimmied and jerked his jeans and pants off he helped too, building a stack three pillows tall that they pushed under Louis’s arse.

“You’re so beautiful.” Harry watched Louis’ face as he slathered lube over his cock, beginning to line himself up even before Louis was settled on the pillows. He was naked, finally, they were equals again, and whatever it was deep inside their fantasy had Harry straining to hold himself back in a way Louis had seen only once or twice before. He was looking at Louis like he was starving and ready to devour him. “Tell me what you want.”

Louis shifted to place himself against Harry’s hips. “To give it all. Give everything to you baby.”

“Everything Louis. I want everything.” Harry’s eyes said this was not a game anymore, and all Louis could think was _fuck yes, everything, take it_ as the silken head of Harry’s cock pushed gently against him. Louis reached down to guide it, and Harry let a breath out between his pursed lips when he slid through.

Harry gathered up Louis’ bent legs over the crooks of his arms, and Louis let go, let Harry carry their weight. “Want to get so deep inside you, sweetheart.” Relaxing his legs made Louis’ thighs fall apart, and his cock tensed in the open air, making it jump against his stomach. Louis stroked it as Harry looked on, pushing in slowly. For a moment they were silent, the stretch of heat and muscle familiar yet new. Harry adjusted, rolling his hips closer and lifting Louis’ body to meet him.

“Is that alright?”

“ _Yes,_ feels good.” Louis blew out a breath and willed his muscles to relax even further. Harry was above him, inside him, and Louis wondered how, how did they get here? This had started out being something for … for Harry, hadn’t it? Harry needed a laugh, he needed to smile and get out of his head, that was all. But Jesus, now they’d turned a corner and there was no turning back; somehow Harry had stepped bravely in front to lead them and now it was _Louis_ who needed it, desperately and completely. He needed to surrender to Harry, needed to envelop him, see and feel Harry bearing down over him, lifting him up and holding him open. Louis needed to let himself be the one Harry trusted with this, to hold him deep inside and contain all Harry was and all he could be. All _they_ could be.

The thought spread his hips and lifted his arse. Harry eased in further, and Louis let his eyes slide down to where they connected. The shiny lube glistened on Louis’ skin and made his coarse hair curl in wet circles, and he could see the last inches of Harry’s cock still outside.

“All the way now, baby, all the way inside me.” Louis watched his body take it in as Harry thrust forward, but then needed to lay back and let himself be held, let Harry use Louis’ legs to pull them closer and push them apart. He rested his hands on Harry’s thighs and flexed his feet as the full length of Harry’s cock worked in and out of him. “That’s it, long strokes.” Every inch was an inch closer, and Louis wanted to feel his body yield to each one.

“Aahhh, we’re so good, Lou.” Harry’s chest was flushed and his eyes were focused. Louis loved to watch the shape his torso made as it worked, the muscles straining and pulling, the movement and rhythm so singularly dirty, making Louis’ head swim. He reached down to grasp his cock, letting the back and forth motion of Harry’s slow thrusts dictate the speed of his strokes.

For a moment Louis’ eyes closed; they were all alone in the world, far away from everything that would keep them from each other. The darkness let him feel more, hear more. At first, it was just the sound of Harry’s breath and little grunt at the end of each deep stroke; soon it was also the little slapping sound their skin made when Harry picked up the pace. Louis added his own moans then, which made Harry thrust faster, forcing Louis’ dick in and out of his fist to match it. Harry wanting him this way, wanting to do and be this with him — Louis had to curl his cheek toward his shoulder and throw his free arm across his face. Too fast, too good. Just a minute longer, just another few seconds and he was going to have to tell Harry to stop.

“Wait, baby,” Louis said, pressing his hand flat against Harry’s chest, “Ohh, waitwaitwait.” He felt Harry begin to back out, but he said, “No, no, stay right there. Just.” Louis let a big breath out and faintly shook his head. “Don’t move. Stay. Right there.”

“Like this?” Harry pushed in closer with his groin flush to Louis’ pelvis. He let his weight rest there, the warmth and pressure pinning Louis against the pillows.

“Yeah, just want to …” His hands found the lovely dip where Harry’s thighs met his backside and held him there, taking another deep breath. He tipped his hips almost imperceptibly, the move barely visible, but enough to cause Harry to huff out a gasp. He had been holding himself up on his hands, but Louis could see the little pulsing motion was coaxing his body to relax a bit, and he lowered himself down to rest on his elbows.

“Tell me again,” Louis said softly, as goosebumps rose on his arms.

“What?”

“That … I’d be yours.” Louis heard the desperation in his own voice, and liked the way it sounded. He wasn’t surprised when Harry’s eyes closed into it, his face revealing some kind of pride.

“You’d be mine.” Harry eased in further until he was bottomed out, pressed against Louis’ entrance. Louis could feel the weight of his balls against him as they stayed fixed in place. He was filled completely, a feeling that had him trembling; with his legs in the air, all of his heat and blood were centred at the place where they were joined. His body wanted to milk his husband’s cock, be the vessel that would hold everything Harry could give him. It made him jerk underneath Harry in small, almost uncontrollable movements while Harry stayed immobile on top of him, a solid wall of warm muscle Louis could just fuck against, their pelvises moving in the minutest of grinds.

“Everyone can see it, sweetheart, everyone can see what I did to you.”

“Fuck, yes.” Louis reached down under them to spread himself open even more, and his fingertips touched the slippery, wet root of Harry’s cock. Deep, deep, it had to be deep. “Everyone knows I’m yours, baby.” Deeper. He pulled his thighs back toward his chest. There. “Kiss me.”

Louis took Harry’s tongue inside his mouth and tasted sweat; he swept a hand over Harry’s forehead, feeling dampness there too. The kiss made him want to open more, open his chest where his heart beat hotly, open his legs wider, open his mouth to taste everything that Harry was.

The tenuous string that held Louis together began to fray. His breathing grew shallow, and when he spoke it was rushed and thin. “Don't stop telling me … tell me more … say more.”

“You belong to me.”

Louis’ body knew before he did, and the noise his throat made took him by surprise. Oh shit, he would be embarrassed later, but it seemed to spur Harry on, and Louis could hear his own voice rising, as Harry in a sweaty blur above him smiled down. Louis fumbled to hold on in different places, trying to find the stable grip that would be secure enough for him to let it all go; he grasped along Harry’s arms, then tried one around his back, and finally one pulling him in impossibly deeper by the hard, flexing muscle of his arse cheek.

Belong to. Everything. Give it all, undeniable, invincible, gasping, give it all, Harry, I would … baby … “I’d give it … I’d do it … I’d …” Louis stammered.

“I know sweetheart, I know you would.”

“I would, you know that, right?” Jesus, Harry was his sweetest friend, the love of his life. The father of his children. “I would.” Irrevocably. Irreversibly. Conclusively.

The string finally snapped. For an agonising moment he was trapped between chasing it and letting it come for him; his hips froze and the biggest muscles of his body tensed in a real-life fight or flight, and his heart pumped wildly with adrenaline. He was dimly aware of Harry looping his arm under his thigh, holding him more and more open. “Make me, make me,” he hissed, his hips jerking, dick rolling up against nothing, “make me come, make me come baby I’m going to …”

His stomach fluttered and tightened with Harry’s warm hand over it, protecting it, comforting it, and for long seconds there was no sound, no breath, just an implosion that took everything he had to give. In it he could see it all plainly, brilliantly, and it was so profound he had to grit his teeth and growl it out. His first breath after was a desperate, deep inhale that brought him back into his body, where his cock was still pulsing his come, spilling it onto his stomach and over Harry’s hand. “Oh, God, Lou, oh God.” Harry smoothed his hand through it and spread it over Louis’ abdomen, making his skin slick and sticky. Louis heard a stutter in Harry’s throat where his breath suddenly faltered; he cleared it and whispered, “Let me come inside you now.”

“Give it to me, baby,” Louis said, “come on. Give it to me.” Louis stroked Harry’s chest with one hand and held his warm, surging arse cheek flush to him as he spoke. Harry’s eyes shut at the encouragement, and he reached down under Louis to cup his arse, forcing them closer. The motion tilted Louis’ pelvis even higher, fixed him in place with a purpose, a job to do, his reason for being.

“Fill me up. Come on, baby.”

“You want it?”

Louis hadn’t ever wanted before now. “Fuck yeah, baby, I want it.”

“I’m …” Harry said, before a shaky gasp, “I’m gonna …” his breathing hitched and Louis could read it on his face. He was seeing the wave cresting, feeling the undertow of it pull Harry’s breath away. Louis squeezed his arm in empathy and comfort. This one would be massive.

“Lou.” The name was clipped.

Louis gripped Harry’s arms to brace him. “Yeah, baby?”

“Can’t stop thinking about … that … ugh, that delicious …” his eyes squeezed shut, “that fucking _criminally fucking beautiful …_ sway … your hips do …” He pumped faster. “It would be even … more …”

Oh, fucking God, it would, he would fucking swing his heavy hips and roll his round bottom over Harry’s lap, yes, yes. “Yes baby, tell me.” One hand grabbed Harry’s arse and squeezed; Harry took Louis’ leg up under the knee and shifted it unbearably higher, his arse no longer even on the pillows, nothing at all impeding the pummelling rhythm of Harry's cock plunging in and out.

“Even more beautiful, ugh, because of what I … what we did. If we made …”

“A baby, petal, give it to me, I want it.”

“Shit, Lou, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Harry’s hand caressed Louis’ chest, then stroked through the sticky wetness down to rest on his stomach. “You want it? You ready?”

“So ready, baby. Do it. Do it baby, come.” That last word was just a whisper, lost in Harry’s mouth that came down open and wet over Louis’; the word repeated and repeated into the space that wasn’t a kiss, but more like a catching of breath. “Come inside me baby, come inside me.” Harry’s mouth tasted and bit and kissed and licked up Louis’ words as his hips went stiff in long pulses. Louis squeezed down as hard as he could to hold him deep inside, clamping his legs around Harry to bind them together as the waves vibrated through. Harry growled, pushing roughly into Louis’ pelvis. “That’s right baby …” Louis praised with kisses to his jaw and chin, “… fill me up. That’s right.” He held Harry close as the last of the rocking spasms rippled away, and his growls turned into long, shaky sighs.

It wasn’t until Harry released his legs and let them tangle comfortably with his, not until Louis sank heavily back onto the pillows did their eyes open to meet again. Louis looked into the clear green, the same green he had seen sadness in an hour ago. Now those eyes were sated and sleepy, but Louis could still see the ghost of the dream behind them too, a girl with Louis’ eyes and Harry’s hair.

What was possible and not possible drifted around them, making them shiver and sigh and breathe deeply against each other.

◊ ◊ ◊

They shifted and settled, the pillows and blankets more or less back in place. Harry let Louis pull the duvet up over them; he was suddenly getting cold, with all of his love spent, but the memory of all they’d done still thrummed a tingle through his nipples and up his neck.

“Where did we just go?” Louis’ voice had a grain of amusement in it, but also tenderness, and not a little awe.

Harry snuggled in, letting his limbs rest loose and heavy on the mattress. Louis looked so beautiful, hair still damp and skin glowing. He felt like they were all alone in the world, tucked in a pocket of magic. “Dunno.” He smiled. “You started it.”

“Yeah, but you … you _went_ there. And I …” Louis’ voice sounded far away already, and it trailed off without finishing. Harry’s eyelids were so heavy he just let them fall, and the words his fuzzy brain thought were _everywhere_ and _anyway_ and _thank you_. He could still see Louis’ face behind the black of his closed eyes. He was always there, for years, every single time. When it was all said and done, it would always, always be Louis.

Harry thought fleetingly about saying ‘that was pretty mad, huh?’ and ‘never thought those things;’ what he meant was ‘thank you for coming with me’ and ‘let’s always go together, no matter where.’ What he actually said was a quiet, misty “love you.”

He waited for it, fighting sleep, but still reaching out one last time to find Louis’ hand to hold. Louis was searching for him too, and they found each other, Louis’ hands warm and his grip strong.

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
